


99 problems and a cursed collar is one

by rowing_away



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, M/M, Tropes, Witch Curses, forgive me for i have written shitty fanfic, scott is the best bro you could ever ask for tbh, what season is this supposed to take place in who knows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-09
Updated: 2014-12-09
Packaged: 2018-02-28 19:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2744801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowing_away/pseuds/rowing_away
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A witch cursed Stiles, and if he can't break it, he'll be stuck wearing a collar around his neck for the rest of his life! However, only true love's kiss can break this spell.....</p>
            </blockquote>





	99 problems and a cursed collar is one

**Author's Note:**

> This has been on my hard drive ever since February, and I finally thought 'well why not post it anyway'. I swear one day I will write something serious for Teen Wolf...!!

“Nice necklace, sweetheart. Where’s the leash for that, huh?” Someone catcalled from the other side of the street. Stiles ignored them and tugged fruitlessly at the stupid spiked choker around his neck. It was like a glorified dog collar and Stiles hated it. He wished he had one of Isaac’s scarves to cover it up. Why did witches have to be such assholes, seriously?

He rushed into Deaton’s building. “Doctor Deaton?” he called out. The vet poked his head out of his office, and raised an eyebrow when he saw what was fastened to his neck. Stiles sighed. “I know it looks terrible. I wish I could take it off.” He said in frustration.

“Witches?” Deaton guessed.

Stiles clicked his tongue. “Got it in one,” he turned on the pleading eyes. “Please help me get this literally cursed thing off before some BDSM dude tries to pick me up on the streets. The ogling is getting old really fast.”

“Do you know who cast this spell on you?” Deaton said.

Stiles snorted. “No. But it happened when I was on the field earlier. Some guy in a black hoodie approached me. I get knocked out, next thing I know I’ve got this emo collar around my neck and no way to take it off.”

“I see.” Deaton said cryptically. “Then in that case, it’s probably to do with love.”

Stiles stared at him. “What?”

Deaton tilted his head thoughtfully. “I suppose you could say it’s like a more twisted version of sleeping beauty. Only true love’s kiss will break this spell.” He explained.

Stiles huffed. “Why’s it always got to be the ‘true love’ bullshit? I am an independent woman that don’t need no man! And I might not even want a romantic relationship for all the witch knows!”

Deaton nodded. “And you’re right about that, Stiles. This means that the witch probably chose you for this spell on purpose. He could have looked into potential students at the high school for candidates on this, and for some reason, he chose you.”

“Why does it always have to be me? I’m tired of being the victim.” Stiles said exasperatedly.

Deaton’s eyes narrowed. “Maybe he thinks you need a push in the right direction.”

Stiles sighed again. “Right, whatever. I guess I’ll just ask Lydia to kiss me or something and this will all go away.”

There was a long silence before Deaton reluctantly replied, “Yes. You go and do that.” He turned away and stalked back into his office, quietly closing the door.

Stiles squinted at the door then walked back outside. Deaton was a weird guy. He just needed to find Lydia, simple and easy. Hopefully Jackson wouldn’t kill him.

 

It didn’t work.

Lydia was alone and she let Stiles in easily when he knocked, but she, like Deaton, raised a surprised and slightly judgmental eyebrow at his choice of neckwear.

“I know,” Stiles said wearily. “I didn’t pick this deliberately.”

“Another werewolf thing?” Lydia said.

“Witches this time.”

Lydia nodded. “I had a feeling that would come into play some time.”

“Yeah. Anyway, remember that crush I’ve had on you since first grade? It could save my life right now.” Stiles said.

“What does that have to do with your little fetish collar?” Lydia said.

“You kiss me, and then this,” Stiles tugged at the choker, “Will come off. The spell will break.”

Lydia thought about it for a moment. She shrugged. “Okay. At least Jackson’s not home to see this.” She put her hands on his cheeks and planted a sticky kiss on his lips. It lasted a few moments, and then she pulled away. She hummed. “You have nice lips. Turn around.”

“Chap stick works wonders,” Stiles said, still reveling in the feeling from that kiss as Lydia fiddled with the buckle of the collar on the back of his neck.

“Weird,” he heard her say. “It’s not coming off, Stiles.”

Needless to say, Stiles started to panic a little. Maybe a lot. “What do you mean, it’s not coming off?” he said, turning back to face Lydia.

She looked confused. “I don’t know. It’s just not coming off.”

“It didn’t work. How could it not work? Look at you!” Stiles said as he gestured to all of Lydia. “You’re a goddess! This is unbelievable.”

“Thank you.” Lydia said. “I hope you have better luck with thing, Stiles. Let me know whose mouth that isn’t mine works the magic for you.”

“Thanks anyway.” Stiles pecked her on the cheek and walked out of her house, pulling his phone out to call Scott which he probably should have done in the first place. “Hey Scott? Yeah, it’s me. Dude, I have a problem.”

 

“So who do you have to kiss, if not Lydia?” Scott said.

“I don’t know! And that’s the whole problem!” Stiles said.

“Well. Not exactly the whole problem,” Isaac said, staring pointedly at the collar.

The three teenagers were in Scott’s room. Scott was sitting at his desk chair, Isaac was lounged on the bed near the pillows, and Stiles flopped his body on the other half of the mattress. Isaac let him borrow a soft grey scarf, and Stiles was quick to wrap it around his neck, effectively covering the collar. It was eighty degrees out, but it was almost better to look like a douche than a goth enthusiast. He really picked the wrong day to wear a v-neck.

“I thought Lydia was the one for me, man,” Stiles said.

“When was the last time you thought of her in a romantic way?” Isaac said.

Stiles squinted. “I don’t know. Like. A few months ago, I guess?” His eyes widened dramatically. “Shit.”

“Who does Stiles smell like arousal around?” Isaac said to Scott.

He thought about it for a moment, perking up and then scrunching his nose in distaste. “Ugh, Derek.”

“Mmm, yeah. Derek…” Stiles said, trailing off and remembering those muscular arms and growly voice.

“Derek is the one that you think is going to work?” Scott said.

“Have you seen him? Yes, I do think so,” Stiles said as he sat up.

“We have an alpha to confront,” Isaac said smugly.

 

It turns out that shouting ‘Kiss the Girl’ at the Hale house the second they pulled up was actually the fastest way to get Derek’s ass out on the porch. His face had a look like he was ready to kill on it. “What are you doing here?” he growled.

Scott held his hands up in a placating matter. “You have to kiss Stiles or he’ll be cursed forever.” He said in a rush.

Derek pursed his lips. “Is this a joke? I don’t have time for this,”

Stiles ripped the scarf from around his neck. “Look at this thing okay, I don’t want to have to wear an S&M fetish collar for the rest of my life just because you refused to plant one on me.” He said, his voice getting shriller with every word.

It was quiet. Isaac coughed awkwardly. “So you should, uh, probably give Stiles a kiss.”

Stiles nodded vigorously.

Derek’s face is expressionless, and he silently steps down from the porch and makes his way over to the trio. Scott and Isaac back away a few steps, still on either side of Stiles. They both look nervous.

Derek stops right in front, the toes of his sneakers touching Stiles’. He puts a heavy hand on Stiles’ shoulder and leans in, pressing his mouth to Stiles’ lips, who sighs out a breath through his nose in relief. He tilts his head slightly upwards, and Derek’s hand tightens briefly before he drops it and pulls away.

Stiles’ eyes are wide. “That was…a really great smooch. Wow.” And then he remembers why he needed to be kissed by Derek Hale in the first place. His fingers scrabble at the back of his neck, unbuckling the spiked choker and freeing his neck, finally. It wasn’t tight or constricting, but it left a light band of reddened skin around his neck, imitating the choker. He rubs his hand at it.

“It actually worked…” he can hear Scott say behind him. Isaac makes an affirmative noise.

Derek’s fingers prod at the sensitive skin of his neck, pressing in at his pulse and skirting around the moles near his jaw. Stiles swallows. Derek feels his throat work under his fingers, and he nods. He lets his hand drop. “I did what you asked. Please leave.” He says, turning away from them.  

“Derek –”

“Please go. Now.”

Stiles hangs his head a little in defeat. “Okay,” he says quietly.

Derek heads back towards the house and Stiles climbs into the jeep. He lets Scott drive.

 

Later, after Isaac has finished fiddling with the radio and has it settled on a pop rock station, they are on their way to the diner in town. They have the best milkshakes and Stiles is desperate for a tall glass of strawberry with whipped cream on top right now.

He had shot off a text to Lydia half an hour ago, the message containing only the name _Derek._

Lydia texts back _I knew it_ and Stiles doesn’t respond to it.

 

Everything is back to normal the next day. Stiles passes Danny in the hallway and they have a riveting conversation about Jackson and his problems on the way to the locker room.

It’s when school lets out and he sees who’s leaning against the passenger side of jeep that he thinks the day is going to turn sour very fast.

Stiles closes his eyes in anticipation. “Derek,” he sighs.

“There’s a reason why it only worked with me. And you know what it is, Stiles.”

“You’re going to rub it in after rejecting me yesterday?” Stiles scoffs. Derek is looking at him with patience, of all things.

“I know what Deaton said to you.” Derek says. Obviously his creepy stalker tendencies weren’t going away anytime soon.

“Fine. How long have you known about my stupid crush on you then, huh? That’s what you’re talking about, isn’t it?”

There’s a pause, and then a hint of disbelief in Derek’s tone when he says, “You think it’s one sided.”

“You never gave me a reason to believe otherwise.” Stiles’ heartbeat picks up the pace at the implication.

“Maybe I wasn’t being clear enough,” Derek says. He takes a step closer to Stiles.

Suddenly, Deaton’s words come back to him. _“Maybe he thinks you need a push in the right direction.”_

Stiles’ eyes widen. “He knew. Oh my god, he knew about it the whole time and he didn’t tell me! No wonder he was being more cryptic than usual.”

Derek has a hand on his shoulder, exactly like yesterday. “I hate witches.” Stiles whispers and then he’s kissing Derek and everything is mostly okay.

 

Peter smirks, leaning against a tree a good enough distance away that Derek wouldn't be able to detect him. Although he did seem rather occupied at the moment anyway...

He can't help but chuckle, and takes out his phone so he can quickly shoot a text to his little henchman. _Plan worked brilliantly. You'll find your payment already deposited in your account._

"Witches for hire. Best damn idea ever. Maybe my wonderful nephew will try less to kill me now that he's happy."

**Author's Note:**

> Haha PLOT TWIST.
> 
> Peter is my problematic fave, I HAD TO put him in there...


End file.
